t confusion--that he has died
bankrupt, in fact; and not only _that_, but that he has been cheating me
right and left for years and years, appropriating the money which ought
to have been spent on the estate to his own uses; and, as misfortunes
never come single, I also hear"--(unfolding the sheet, and glancing
rather disconsolately over it)--"that there has been a hurricane, which
has destroyed nearly all the sugar-canes."

The thought of _Job_ and his successive misfortunes instantly occurs to
me--the Sabeans, the Chaldeans, the great wind from the wilderness--but
being a little doubtful as to his example having a very consoling
effect, with some difficulty, and at the cost of a great pressure
exercised on myself, I abstain from mentioning him.

"To make a long story short," continues Sir Roger, "and not to bother
you with unnecessary details--"

"But indeed they would not bother me," interrupt I, eagerly, putting my
hand through his arm, and turning my face anxiously up to him; "I should
_enjoy_ hearing them. I wish you would not think that all sensible,
sober things _bother_ me."

"My dear," he says, gently pinching my cheek, "I think nothing of the
kind, but I know that not all the explanations in the world will alter
the result, which is, that I shall not get a farthing from the property
_this_ year, and very likely not _next_ either."

"You do not say so!" cry I, trying to impart a tragic tone to my voice,
and only hoping that my face _looks_ more distressed and aghast than it
feels.

To tell you the truth, I am mightily relieved. At this period of my
history, money troubles seem to me the lightest and airiest of all
afflictions. I have sat down, and Sir Roger is walking up and down, with
a restlessness unlike his usual repose; on his face there is a vexed and
thwarted look, that is unfamiliar to me. The old parrot sits in the sun,
outside his cage, scratching his head, and chuckling to himself. Tou
Tou's voice comes ringing from the garden. It has a tone of mingled
laughter and pain, which tells me that she is undergoing severe and
searching discipline at the hands of Bobby.

"I suppose," say I, presently, speaking with some diffidence, "that
_that_ is _all_. Of course I do not mean to say that it is not very bad,
but is there nothing _worse_?"

"Is not it _bad enough_?" he asks, half laughing. "What did you expect?"

"You know," say I, still hesitatingly, "I have not an idea _how_ well
off you are; I